Mission Impossible
by Aini NuFire
Summary: Castiel and Rowena team up to retrieve an artifact, which involves going undercover at a gala.


**A/N: Prompted from a conversation with LadyWallace. Takes place season 14 but no spoilers.**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading!**

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"Mission Impossible"

"I'm very uncomfortable with this."

"Just let me do all the talking," Rowena replied, reaching up to straighten Castiel's bowtie.

The tuxedo didn't fit all that differently from his normal suit, but Castiel certainly felt out of place in it. And he wasn't very keen on this plan in the first place.

Music drifted down the long driveway of a mansion lit with party lights and lined with cars pulling up to the valets. The owner was having a private yet high profile gala for the wealthy and elite to come admire his recent imports of priceless artifacts. He was an avid collector, and one item in particular was of special interest to the soon-to-be party-crashers—something that could be a potential weapon against Michael.

But given Mr. Davenport's extensive security, both high tech and magical, the party was the only opportunity they were going to get to set foot inside. And Rowena's expertise was needed for the magical wards while Castiel was needed to confirm the identity of the object in question. Thus, here they were, partnered together for this little incursion.

Rowena hooked her arm in his and began leading the way up the drive. Dressed in a royal plum evening gown with glittered bodice and slit three quarters of the way up her thigh, she looked as decked out as the other people here in all their finery.

They stepped into line at the door, and when they reached the steps, Rowena presented a forged invitation to the attendant.

"Lady MacLeod, plus one."

The man squinted at the parchment in confusion, but then shook his head dazedly and handed it back. "Of course. Welcome."

The classical music grew louder as they entered the estate. People milled about, admiring various objects and paintings set out on display. Servers in crisp white shirts and black vests weaved in and out with platters of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne. Rowena immediately plucked a glass of sparkling bubbly off a tray and raised it to red-painted lips.

"We're not here to sample the cuisine," Castiel said under his breath.

"Try to blend in, tweetie-pie," she replied and gave his chest a light pat with her free hand. "Don't look so constipated."

"We have a mission."

"Not raising suspicions is part of that." She tugged him over to a sculpture and stopped to appreciate it. But her eyes surreptitiously roved past it toward the various men in suits stationed along the perimeter of the large room. "So much security," she hummed. "I'm not seeing any warding out here. You?"

"No."

Their intel said the artifact they needed was kept in the vault, though they didn't know where that was located. They needed to slip out of the party and explore the rest of the house.

Together, the two of them nonchalantly moved from display to display, pretending to admire the collection pieces as they gradually veered closer toward one of the adjoining hallways.

They were almost there when Rowena abruptly turned and snaked a hand around the back of Castiel's neck and pulled his head down toward hers. He went rigid, their lips hovering a breadth's width apart.

Rowena huffed in consternation, and Castiel caught a glimpse over her shoulder of Mr. Davenport joining the party through the corridor they'd been heading toward. The man walked past without casting them a single glance, and only after he'd mingled into the crowd of guests did Rowena lower herself down from her tiptoes, though she remained pressed close.

"Of course I had to get paired with the virgin angel," she muttered.

"I'm not a virgin," Castiel automatically replied.

Rowena arched a skeptical brow.

He nudged past her now that Davenport was out of sight and peeked down the hallway. It was clear. "Let's go."

The deeper they ventured into the mansion, the more Castiel began to sense hints of magic thrumming through the walls. Davenport had warding as thorough as the bunker.

A man in a suit and wearing an earwig rounded the corner. "Hey, you can't be back here—"

Castiel surged forward and grabbed the guard by his lapels, flinging him around and slamming him into the wall. He yanked the plastic earbud from the guy's ear before he could radio for help. The man sputtered in surprise and shock.

"Where's the vault?" Castiel demanded.

"You can't seriously—"

Castiel summoned up his grace, his eyes flaring blue. The guard's expression went slack.

"D-down the h-hall. Fi-first left," he stammered.

Castiel released him and took a step back, then reached out to touch two fingers to the man's forehead. He crumpled like a marionette. When Castiel turned around, Rowena was regarding him with a simpering moue.

"You can certainly make a woman all quivery," she said.

"I'm aware."

He tested the door handle of a nearby room and, finding it unlocked, dragged the unconscious guard inside and out of sight. Then he strode down the hallway, Rowena's heels clacking furiously as she tried to keep up.

"Slow down," she hissed.

Castiel ignored her, instead concentrating on following the guard's directions until he finally came to the end of a corridor and a great metal slab taking up the entire far wall.

Rowena scowled as she caught up. "I'm in heels, you know."

"You're the one who wanted to dress the part."

She grumbled under her breath as she approached the vault door and raised her hand to the locking mechanism. With a few words of Latin, there was a beep and click, and the sealed door popped open.

Castiel grabbed the handle to yank it further so they could slip inside. The vault looked like a miniature gallery, with valuable pieces on display shelves under airtight glass cases. Castiel swept his gaze over the items in search of the one they were here for. He spotted it in the back, a cobalt scepter with gold inlay and a crescent on top. Castiel held out a hand toward the case and could feel the subtle vibration of dormant power within the object.

"This is it."

"Good, grab it and let's go," Rowena urged.

Castiel lifted off the glass casing and wrapped his hand around the rod. The lights flashed red and a shrill beep preceded the vault door shutting behind them with a locking click.

"What in the blazes did you do that for?" she shrieked. "You didn't disable the alarm trigger?"

"I thought that's what _you_ were supposed to do," he snapped.

"On the door!"

Castiel threw Rowena an exasperated look. "At what point did you think I was the one to disable a non-magical security system?"

She crossed her arms. "Well, excuse me, I thought Samuel would have given you some pointers."

Castiel shook his head in irritation and tucked the scepter inside his tuxedo jacket. "Can you open it again?" he asked, gesturing to the door.

"Not from the inside," she replied, and there was a thread of worry coloring her voice.

"Then I suppose we wait," he concluded.

It didn't take long for a click and inrush of air to signal they'd been found. Castiel straightened as the door gradually slid open, revealing Davenport and a bunch of guards standing on the other side.

Davenport's eyes immediately narrowed on them. "Rowena," he said, surprise wreathed in fury. "How dare you try to steal from me," he seethed.

Rowena gave a nervous chuckle. "Robert, dear, there's a perfectly good explanation for this."

Castiel angled a sidelong look at her. _"Dear"?_

He cleared his throat as he turned to Davenport. "You have something in your collection that might be able to help us stop the archangel Michael from destroying the world," he tried to explain.

"And if we succeed, we had _every_ intention of returning it to you," Rowena interjected. "So really we're just borrowing from you. Not stealing." She flashed him a coquettish smile.

Davenport regarded them for a lengthy moment, and then his features smoothed. "I'm surprised by you, Rowena. You've always been attracted to power."

She lifted her chin, looking serious for once. "I've been burned by it too. One too many times."

Davenport snorted. "Well, I happen to think Michael's proposal for a new world order sounds rather appealing." He gestured to his guards, whose eyes started to glow yellow.

Rowena wilted and muttered, "Bollocks."

"I thought all the guards were supposed to be human," Castiel hissed at her. Honestly, could things go even more wrong?

"These are new recruits," Davenport said, having heard him. "Michael warned me I might have visitors." He took a step back and out of the way, allowing full room for his attack dogs to swarm into the vault.

Castiel pulled Rowena behind him and thrust his other hand out, summoning up his grace fueled by Heaven's divine might. White light exploded through the room and the monsters howled. But having been juiced up by Michael, the mass smiting wasn't as effective as Castiel had hoped. None of the creatures lay dead, though several had black eyes smoking from seared sockets and were moaning in agony on the floor. Castiel dropped his arm.

"Be still my beating heart," Rowena murmured.

Davenport stepped back into view, nostrils flaring with rage. He shouted a word of Latin and Castiel was suddenly thrown off his feet and through the air. He crashed into a display shelf, shattering glass and hitting the floor in a shower of shards and priceless artifacts. He blinked stars from his vision and tried to regain his feet before the next blow came, but he heard Rowena utter an incantation, and then there was an explosion of magic.

Castiel stumbled upright as the two witches exchanged a couple more blows, and then Rowena finally managed to fling Davenport down the hallway, leaving him briefly stunned. Castiel snagged her arm and dragged her forward, bent on their escape. Rowena kept tripping over her heels as her shorter stature struggled to keep up.

Castiel heard a snarl and drew his blade in the same breath as he pivoted around to meet some of the guards that had only been mildly hurt in the smiting. He stabbed at the closest one, ducked a swipe of partially formed claws, and sliced at a third. He felt something catch the tail of his tux and rend fabric, and he instinctively spun away before he could be eviscerated.

Rowena cast another spell to take care of the second, but the last guard launched himself at Castiel, tackling him straight in the chest. Castiel barely got his blade up in time, and he felt the tip pierce soft flesh and muscle just as he was knocked backward and hit the floor, the monster landing on top of him. The air punched from Castiel's lungs with an "oof," and he lay dazed for a second before pushing the dead guard off.

He scrambled to his feet and followed Rowena down the corridor, looking for an exit. He'd gotten preoccupied by the fight and didn't recognize the juncture until he suddenly found himself stumbling back into the party area.

Rowena pulled up short, lifting her chin and swiftly hooking her arm in Castiel's. "Play it cool," she said around a forced smile.

Castiel tossed a look over his shoulder, expecting Davenport to come chasing after them any moment. And he did not want these people caught up in a fight. But more guards were moving in to block the exits. He gripped his angel blade, holding it close to his sleeve and hopefully out of sight.

"Any suggestions?" he asked.

Rowena huffed, but whispered a string of Latin. Smoke started billowing up from the floor. The guards started forward, but surprised gasps had begun rippling through the party guests, followed by shouts of alarm. Panic exploded like a pistol shot as everyone started crowding toward the exits. The guards couldn't keep them at bay, and Castiel and Rowena slipped through the rest under the cover of the thickening smoke. Once outside, they broke away from the main throng and hurried down the driveway toward the street where they'd left the car.

"Well, that was fun," Rowena commented when it seemed they'd made a clean escape.

Castiel didn't think so. At least they got the artifact though. The hard part of course would be seeing whether it would work against Michael.

Rowena gave him a simpering smile as they approached the car. "We make a good team."

Castiel rolled his eyes. Why did he always seem to find himself in "buddy comedies" with one-time arch enemies?


End file.
